Holden Caulfield, Eat Your Heart Out
by curse of ondine
Summary: Life as a teen is hard. You've got grades, friends, and relationships to worry about, not to mention hormones. All this plus being a vampire? Nearly impossible. Lars Van Houten knows this the hard way. vampire!NetherlandsxCanada, High school AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: So yeah, this is my first story on here. I'm really excited about it, and I hope you guys will like it. I apologize in advance for the extreme shortness of this chapter, the upcoming ones will be much longer. Any advice/tips/constructive criticism is greatly appreciated, as are opinions in gneral.**

"P-p-please, no! I have a wife and three kids!"

God. What is it with humans? They figure out that I'm a vamp and just assume I'm going to kill them. I mean, what kind of person do they think I am? Yeah, I drink their blood, but I don't take enough to actually kill them. They just pass out for a bit and wake up not knowing what happened. It's pretty great, other than this part. This part being when the victim starts freaking out and begging for their life. Sometimes they cry. Others try to fight me. Some, surprisingly, don't do a thing. It's almost as if they're hoping to die.

I glance down at my current victim, and I tell him the exact same thing I tell the others.

"Would you just relax? I'm not gonna kill you."

Of course, it doesn't work. He keeps on with his please-don't-kill-me routine. I'm really starting to get annoyed. My day had been bad as it was, and now this got added on. It's like the universe is trying to make me throw a shit fit of Mel Gibson-esque proportions. It's doing a pretty good job of it, too.

Finally sick of this guy's begging and whining, I clamp my teeth down onto his neck and let his blood flow freely into my mouth. It's B positive. Not my favorite, but I keep on drinking. After a while, he goes limp and I let him fall to the ground.

I produce a tissue from my pocket and wipe my mouth with it, seeing as I can't really use my sleeve. Then, I walk back to my car and drive home. As I pull into the driveway, I realize that I still haven't done my Calculus homework.

Great. Just fucking great.


	2. Chapter 2

"Who the hell is Don Quicks-oat?"

This brilliant question comes from none other than the school asshole, Dave Parks. He's everything you'd expect the school asshole to be; big, mean, and dumb. He also happens to be dating my sister, Bela, which fucking sucks. Seriously. I don't know what she sees in him. Bela's gorgeous (And I mean that in a completely non incestuous way.), not to mention smart and like, the nicest person ever, and she could have any guy she wanted, yet she goes for a jerk like him. Some things just make no sense to me.

So anyway, while our English teacher, Mr. Brooks, explains that it's Don _Key-hoe-tay,_ why don't I take the opportunity to properly introduce myself?

My name is Lars van Houten. Born in the Netherlands, but currently living in Hoboken, New Jersey. I live with my mother, my aforementioned sister, and my brother. I'm openly gay and if you've got a problem with that, you may want to stop reading this. My life mainly consists of being called a fag by Dave Parks and Co. (I fail to see how I'm a cigarette.), and oh yeah, drinking people's blood.

By now, you obviously know that I'm a vampire. Yes, you read that correctly. And no, when I'm in the sun, I do not fucking sparkle. Nor do I catch on fire, turn to ash, or whatever else you see in the movies. The actual reason why the sun bothers us is our eyes. You see, since vampires primarily hunt at night, our eyes are made to see better in the dark, and are very sensitive to light. All that means for me is that sometimes I have to wear sunglasses when it's really bright outside.

I don't really want much from life. You know, just what everyone wants. Good education, well paying job, husband, all that boring shit. But mainly, I want to not be discovered.

...

Today is a Friday, which I'm very grateful for. The minute the last bell rings, I'm out of the classroom and rushing to my locker. I pass Dave, but Bela's with him, and he doesn't dare do or say anything unkind to me when she's around.

When I get to my locker, I stuff my things into my bag and head out to my car, which my best and only friend, Katyusha, is leaning on.

"Drive a girl home?" she asks.

"Yeah, get in." I say as I open my door.

She thanks me, and as I drive, we chat about things not important enough to repeat. But then, Katyusha says, "So, today in study hall I was talking to Alison Jones. We had a really nice chat."

"Since when were you guys friends?" I question, puzzled.

"Oh, we're really not, but still. Anyway, she was telling me that this guy she's dating right now is in a band. They've got a gig tonight at the Rose and Thorn. She told me I should come."

The Rose and Thorn was a semi-shitty bar in New York City that Katyusha and I had spent many a Friday night at, thanks to the fake Ids that she and I had gotten about a year ago. We never went there to drink, because it was just something that neither of us did very often. No, we went to the Rose and Thorn because every Friday night a few bands that the owner had booked would play. Most of the time, they sucked, but it was still fun.

"Is this your way of saying you want to go?"

"Yeah. You coming?"

"I don't know." Usually, I'd say yes, but Alison kind of annoys me, and I know that if I go, I'll end up talking to her.

"Alison also said that she's bringing her twin brother. He just moved here to live with their mom. I think she mentioned that he's in our year too."

"And I care because…?"

"Because he's gay, and if he looks like Alison, he'll probably be cute."

God damn her and her evil ways.

"Fine, I'll go. But you're driving."

**Author's note: Pretty boring chapter, I know. This was kind of just so you guys get to know Lars. But the next chapter will be more interesting. (Matthew makes his first appearance.) So, bye for now, and don't forget to leave me a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Kat pulls into our driveway at eight thirty in her dad's car. Although dinosaur on wheels is a much more appropriate term for what it is. It's a vomit colored van and it's got to be at least thiry five years old. Need I go into more detail on the crapiness of this thing? But anyway, that isn't especially important. I get in the car and am greeted by Kat singing along to an Elton John song at the top of her lungs.

I don't even bother to say anything. In-car karaoke is a normal thing for her. Yeah, that's right. I have to put up with shit like this _on a regular basis. _But she's always been a good friend to me, so I deal with it. Just like she deals with my often over dramatic laments on being a vampire. Although, to be perfectly honest, they still aren't as bad as her singing.

...

We take a ferry across the Hudson River and are in Brooklyn shortly thereafter. It's around nine, and the traffic isn't too bad for once. In twenty minutes, we've reached our destination. Alison is standing outside the building. She waves at us enthusiastically. We follow her inside, where the air reeks of booze and sweat. The band is already onstage, playing a half assed cover of a Radiohead song. But none of this fully registers with me, because Alison has brought someone over with her, and is shouting over the music that it's her brother, Matthew. And Jesus Leroy Christ, that boy is hot. Seriously, I'm in love the moment I see him. He smiles shyly and I nearly pounce on him.

Alison and Katyusha leave us to get closer to the stage. Fuckfuckfuck. This is not good. Not because I don't want to be around him, oh no, I most certainly want to be around him. But not alone. Because I know that if I talk to him one on one, there's a much greater chance that I'll make myself look like a total idiot. I don't know what to say, so I start by introducing myself.

"What? I can't hear you!"

I repeat what I'd said, but louder.

"Cool. Hey, do you want to go outside? It'll be easier for us to talk."

Like I said, I really don't want to be alone with him, since I know I'll fuck it up. But I also don't want to seem like a prick, so I nod, and we step out into the chilly night air.

"So you're a friend of Alison's?"

"Um, not really. But Kat is. Sort of. I don't know. I just got dragged along."

He laughs a little. "So did I." _Okay, you're doing good so far. Just stay calm and you'll be fine._ I tell myself this, but trying to stay calm is useless; I'm nervous as hell. I don't really have much in the way of skills when it comes to talking to new people in general, but the fact that I'm attracted to Matthew makes the problem a thousand times worse than it already is.

"Where are you from? I couldn't help but notice the accent." Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Is he trying to say he likes my accent? Or is he just asking a question?

"Um, the Netherlands. You?"

"Canada. Vancouver, to be specific. When did you move to Hoboken?"

"Seven years ago. Do you like it there so far?" Apparently, we're playing twenty questions or something. I don't know why, but it's slightly easier to talk to him this way.

"Eh, it's not so bad. I miss my friends, though. Do I make you nervous?"

"No," I lie. Fortunately, he buys it. "why? Do _I_ make _you_ nervous?"

He shakes his head. "I was just wondering. Uh, let's see. How'd you get your scar?"

I know exactly which one he's talking about. It's on my forehead, above my left eye, about an inch and a half long. "Crashed my bike into a tree when I was little."

"You know, this is nice. I like talking to you. Normally I'm really shy and everything, but I feel really comfortable around you for whatever reason."

Before I can say anything to this, Alison comes out.

"Yo, Mattie, we have to go home." I look at my watch, and am surprised to find that quite a bit of time has passed. Which is weird, because it doesn't seem like we've been out here all that long.

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute." Matthew tells her, and she nods and heads to their car. "Quick, think of one last question to ask me." I can only come up with one thing, but I'm not sure I've got the balls to say it. Finally, though, I do.

"Can I have your number?"

He blushes bright red; it's fucking adorable. "Y-yes. Got a pen?"

Luckily, I do, and I hand it to him. He pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, smooths it out, and writes out the digits, then hands it to me.

"Matthew!" Alison calls, sounding impatient.

"I'd better get going. See you around?"

"Definitely."


	4. An Apology and an Explanation

Hey everyone. I'm sure you're all like, _"Bitch, why haven't you updated?"_ I promise that I haven't forgotten about this story. I'm just having an awful case of writer's block when it comes to writing it. I've got parts of it planned out in my head, but there's quite a bit of time that needs to be filled in before I get to said parts, if that makes any sense at all. So yeah, this story will continue, but I don't know when I'll be updating. However, I'm going to try my hardest to have a few more chapters up by the end of July.

Thanks for understanding.

-thatgirlwiththeglasses.


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